


I don't care where we've been tonight,  It is of no consequence my dear

by kittenmichael



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: (a lot), Angst, M/M, but i changed things a little, hurt!luke, like the kind that you're not supposed to post online, that's genuinely the only point of this, this was based on the beach scene of the hunger games, word vomit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-20
Updated: 2015-02-20
Packaged: 2018-03-13 22:27:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3398513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittenmichael/pseuds/kittenmichael
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He should have expected itreally, heavy words, what with the heavy tension the echo left them with. A reminder of their near-imminent death, of the danger that was ceaselessly lurking behind any and every corner. Yet, he still felt knocked back by what Luke said.</p><p>“You have to win this, Ashton.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I don't care where we've been tonight,  It is of no consequence my dear

**Author's Note:**

> i haven't been feeling too well lately so naturally i decided to torture luke

Luke and Ashton were sitting on the beach, a pathetic attempt at resting. A canon had made the entire place shake only seconds prior. He should have expected it really, heavy words, what with the heavy tension the echo left them with. A reminder of their near-imminent death, of the danger that was ceaselessly lurking behind any and every corner. Yet, he still felt knocked back by what Luke said.

“You have to win this, Ashton.”

Determination hid behind a wavering voice in Luke’s case. He never got his sentences right, especially not when it mattered. And matter it did.

“Not without you, Luke. You know that,” Ashton spoke, but it sounded strained. Choked. Luke shook his head, fast and clumsy, and his hair got swept up during the movement, only to settle down on his forehead. It was flat now. Before all of this, Ashton had never seen it flat before. Luke’s hair was always up in a quiff, a hair style in which he felt safe, just like he did eating lunch in the library and avoiding conversation. It was one of the many things the young boy had had to give up.

“Listen to me, Ash,” he whispered. “For once, actually  _listen_   _to me_.” His eyes searched for Ashton’s and Ashton felt taken aback by the way they matched the water in front of them. They held the same paradox of restlessness and calmness, because Luke seemed to find a certain comfort in talking about an end,  _his end_ , even if it scared him.

“You can’t die, Ashton. Not now, not here.” He sighed softly. “Your family, they need you. Your brother, your sister. They’re so young, Ash. They can’t go on without you.”

There was blood dripping down Luke’s cheek. He looked tired.

“No one needs me, Ashton.”

Ashton watched Luke’s lips as he spoke, trembling, like his hands. Not with his hands. Ashton wished they trembled together, but nothing ever did anything together here. Nothing ever matched. The forest, the beach, the sea,  _they_ , everything was a mess. The shaking, it had come with the shock Luke was in. Ashton feared it might be permanent.

“My brothers are off. They’re building a family, getting grandchildren. My parents don’t need me, Ashton. I’m not necessary. An extra, if anything. Something they can spare. But you, oh,  _you_ , Ashton.”

Luke sucked in a shaky breath. He kept fumbling with his hands, his fingers trembling on his lap. Luke’s fingers were thin and delicate. They weren’t made for this.  _Luke_  wasn’t made for this. Luke was all about writing nonsensical thoughts down in between his notes and singing shyly when he thought no one was listening. He was tenderness and coldness, something that needed a hand to hold and a body to warm him up. Ashton wished he would sing, but he knew that if a canon were to sound, Luke would never sing again. So Ashton was afraid to ask.

“You are the golden boy. Our town needs you. Your mum needs you. Your little siblings. I lay awake at night, thinking about Harry and Lauren, because I can’t bear the thought of them missing you, Ashton.”

There were now tears streaming down Luke’s face. They mixed with the blood and filled the cavities his prominent cheek bones and sunken cheeks created. Ashton wanted to wipe them away, but Luke wasn’t done yet. The words seemed to tumble from his mouth now he’d gotten started, as though the words had been there all along, waiting for the right moment to wrap themselves around Ashton’s throat. That thought scared him.

“Your biceps are twice as big as mine. You’re athletic, you’re nice. You can do this. You genuinely  _can_. Promise me you won’t give that up. Our town needs a hero, Ashton.”

Luke looked away, his gaze setting on the waves that were still crashing on the shore without a fail. Soon the tide would change and their resting spot would disappear.

“Nobody needs me.”

Ashton shook his head. Luke was wrong, he tended to be, sometimes. When it came to emotions, [Luke ](https://www.tumblr.com/likes)was often wrong.

“ _I_  need you, Luke,” he said, determined without needing stutters or mumbles. His hand found Luke’s, and he all but whined at how soft they felt. Soft and cold and there was no place for Luke here.

“Have you ever thought about that?”

The words dragged Luke’s gaze back, the movement slow and thoughtful. Luke shook his head.

“No, of course you haven’t.”

He sounded bitter, almost, and the younger boy flinched. Tears were prickling in his eyes, too, now. He could feel them burning when he looked past the wet cheeks and trembling fingers. Luke was malnourished and dehydrated, having given up most of his food to Ashton, whose protests fell on deaf ears. Fatigue was dripping off his voice, nibbling at the last syllables of his sentences, and making it that much lower. His arms were bleeding, scratched by branches and things much sharper than that. Worse were the stormy-kind-of-blue marks that reminded them of when Luke fell prey to the game maker’s ruthless electric weapons. Ashton doubted Luke could stand without clinging to him.  

“You’re just selfless like that, aren’t you? It’s true, though.”

He leaned a little closer, his lips hovering less than an inch away from Luke’s falling tears.

“I need you, Luke.”

He had expected Luke’s lips to feel heavy, like his words, like the tension that was still weighing them down. But they didn’t. They felt light and hurt and cold, unmistakably part of Luke. Though their kiss was soft and chaste, Luke seized the opportunity to crawl closer. Ashton, never one to deny the young boy  _anything_ , wrapped his arms around his shaking form. Luke’s shaking fingers grasped Ashton’s shirt, his nails digging into his skin, but Ashton didn’t mind,  _couldn’t_  mind. Luke latched onto him, melting into his embrace and somehow filling all the empty spaces.

“I’m not leaving without you, Lukey.”

Ashton could feel the young boy shake in his arms, uncontrollably and straight-out painfully. His tears were dampening his shirt, but Ashton didn’t dare complain, because he was crying too.

“Promise?”

It wasn’t easy, getting sponsors as two boys in love. But Ashton was determined to make it work.

“Promise.”

**Author's Note:**

> if you're feeling particularly kind today please reblog it on my blog cutesymichael (i still didn't figure out the link thing...) or check out my other blog like-a-star-drunk-nightsky!


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